


Altschmerz

by itakethewords (BluntBetty)



Series: Logophile [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Introspection, M/M, Overthinking, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:59:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9373232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluntBetty/pseuds/itakethewords
Summary: Yuuri has his inner demons





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Yuri!!! On Ice

**Altschmerz** _is weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had—the same boring flaws and anxieties you’ve been gnawing on for years, which leaves them soggy and tasteless and inert, with nothing interesting left to think about, nothing left to do but spit them out and wander off to the backyard, ready to dig up some fresher pain you might have buried long ago._

* * *

 

Yuuri was tired of being tired.

He knew it was all on himself, that he knew he had no one else to blame. The constant, nagging feelings of self-doubt and self-loathing. They were his most constant companions over the years. Since he’d been small. He always thought he wasn’t good enough, that just being _Yuuri_ wasn’t enough for people. Who would want to be around someone so boring? Who would want to be friends with someone so timid? There were skaters out there better than him. There were skaters out there younger than him, geniuses at the sport.

There were people out there in the world like Yuzuru Hanyu, Viktor Nikiforov. They were poets on ice, writers of longing and love and whimsy. Even the seventeen year old Kenjirou Minami had an abundant amount of talent, he’d taken the Japanese Nationals the year Yuuri self-destructed, after all.

Yuuri knew it did no good to think like this. To hash up all the faults he owned, and did he own them. But it wasn’t a switch he could shut off. He couldn’t just place these emotions and the thought process on a shelf, hoping to forget about it or pick it back up when it was more convenient. It never did work out that way. Every time he did bother with that useless wish of being able to set it all aside, all he could do was laugh at himself, a bitter throaty chuckle. People always expected him to just _act cheerful,_  to forget his anxieties just because. Their pointing out his dower moods or negative thoughts just further highlighted how imperfect he was.

When he was on the ice, skating for himself,  those were moments he could shoulder his negativity. No, they weren’t gone. His faults were there, glaringly obvious whenever attempted complicated jumps with an audience of anyone other than Yuuko. But he could wear them out of sight until he left the frosty surface, like a blanket tied around his shoulders. Reminding him of playing superhero as a child. And that’s all it really was. Playing. Playing that he could be a professional skater. Playing at meeting his hero.

There were always moments that made Yuuri rethink. Reconsider. Where he gave the illusion that he was _good_ at skating. The cut of ice under him, the cool kiss of the air. The lack of pressure gave him freedom and he could do spins and jumps and his steps _perfectly_. The soaring feeling. He never felt so free when he could just _be_ on the ice.

What was he supposed to do with his idol, who want to see him wearing gold at the Grand Prix final?

What was he supposed to do with this blue eyed man who followed his every move with a small smile?

What was he supposed to do with the Russian whom he’d fallen head over heels in love with?

This man, this ridiculously flighty man who made him want to bury his anxieties, his weaknesses six feet under the dusty earth.

He was never going to be able to actually do that. Yuuri was certain. Twenty four years on earth and he was certain he’d been aware of them for about twenty of them. They would always creep around, waiting around the corner. Hiding in the closet, under the bed. That shadow in the corner of his eye.

Yuuri was tired of being tired.

So instead of continuing to lay around, slumped down, he did what Yuuri Katsuki did best. He stood, stubborn set of his jaw, brow furrowed. One step forward at a time. And worked himself until he was too tired to contemplate his failures and weaknesses. Too tired to think of the ways he could disappoint the people most important to him.


End file.
